


Facepaint & Kisses

by TeamJaqar



Category: Ackley Bridge (TV)
Genre: Gay Jake, M/M, OT3, artist jake, bisexual waqar, dyslexic waqar, jaqar, rugby boys, rugby boys/ot3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 20:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15566217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamJaqar/pseuds/TeamJaqar
Summary: Waqar doesn't usually enjoy himself much at one of his many little cousins' birthday parties, but a surprise guest makes this one a lot better.





	Facepaint & Kisses

It’s not that Waqar minds having a big family. In fact, he’s actually quite fond of it. He never has to be without company if he doesn’t want to be, and there’s always someone cooking something delicious if he’s hungry. But there’s something to be said for a small family too - namely, that you probably don’t have to go to little cousins’ birthday parties on an almost fortnightly basis. It was great fun when he was younger, but now that he’s older it can feel a bit like he’s just there for crowd control. At least now that he’s in year eleven he can get out of most of them if he promises to study. However, even that hasn’t been a good enough excuse to get him out of this one.

He arrives at the house four hours before the party starts, because his mum doesn’t finish work until half an hour before and she wants him to help set up in her place. He can’t really work out how it could possibly take four hours to put out some crisps and hoover round, but he’s sure he’s about to find out. If there’s one thing Waqar has learned in his sixteen years of living, it’s that aunties can  _ always _ find something else for you to do.

When he’s finished dusting in places he didn’t even know dust could be, Waqar hides in the bathroom for a grand total of three minutes before he’s summoned to the kitchen to be informed of the schedule for the afternoon. There’s going to be a face painter and a bouncy castle, which he thinks is an odd combination given the number of children he’s seen landing face down on a bouncy castle before, but it’s not his problem. At least, it isn’t his problem  _ yet.  _ He makes up his mind to look busy at all times so he can’t be assigned to the task of cleaning up the mess.

The face painter arrives with time to get set up, and Waqar is sent out to the garden to see if he needs anything. To his great surprise, the face painter is Jake Earnshaw, year twelve student and rugby team vice captain. He doesn’t know Jake all that well, but he seems decent enough. Plus, having anyone nearer his age here is good. Maybe now he won’t have to spend the entire afternoon being asked by his relatives about his dreadful mock exam results…

“Anything I can do to help?” Jake looks up from where he’s unpacking his supplies and smiles at Waqar.

“Oh, hi! Yeah, actually, I could do with these filling up, if you don’t mind.” Waqar takes the two water bottles from him with a nod. It probably would have been better to go to the kitchen, had it not been full of aunties and balloons, but for now the little bathroom down the hall will have to do. It also means he’s not visible to anyone else when he’s grinning to himself for no apparent reason while he fills the bottles.

He takes them back out and hands them over without a word. It’s hard to know what else to say, really. They’re both in the team group chat, but Waqar isn’t sure they’ve ever actually spoken and his only knowledge of Jake is from the rare occasions he puts some of his sketches on his Snapchat story. Perhaps art might be a good starting point.

“So, how did you get into doing this, then?” 

Jake finishes fitting one of the water bottles to some sort of device on the table, then turns to face Waqar.

“I did some face painting based stuff during GCSE Art, and ended up really enjoying it. Started getting more creative with it and putting it on Instagram, and then I started getting asked to do events.”

“And you don’t mind spending your weekends with a bunch of screaming kids?” 

“It’s not that bad, really. Anyway, the money is really good, so I don’t have to do very many, and some of the events are adults only as well. Those pay even better. I mean, the car I drove here in is mine, fair and square, paid for by doing this.” Jake gestures towards the half-unpacked paints with a smile.

Waqar smiles back, and tells him that it certainly sounds better than having to work long hours down the supermarket, which is what he imagines he’ll have to do when he fails all of his GCSEs.

“It can’t be all that bad, surely? You’ll pass PE, right?” 

Waqar nods. Even if he does badly in the written paper, his excellent practical marks will balance it out. Perhaps he’d be doing better in his other subjects if he didn’t spend quite so much time on being good at sports, he muses.

“I’m actually not bad at maths. Like, the actual numbers are fine, but then I get confused with the questions. Probably because I’m crap at English.” 

He knows he’s not the best reader, or the best writer, but he used to do alright at English at primary school, when it was all just about writing a story or answering questions about what happened in a book. But now it’s all about making a convincing argument in writing, or picking a story to pieces to figure out why the author used a semicolon or a particular phrase, and none of it really makes any sense to him. When Missy walked out of their mock English reading exam, he’d only been moments away from joining her.

“To be fair, it’s pretty hard. I’m only taking it for A-level because I’m also doing art and RS and I thought I should do at least one academic thing. I love books, but I don’t much care for dissecting them.”

Waqar smiles again, and explains that that’s exactly the feeling he has about them too. Even though it takes him a long time to read a book, he loves the stories they tell. He wishes he could tell his own stories, but he’s bad at writing them down once he’s thought of them.

At that point, he’s called away to help with some more tidying before the first guests arrive, and doesn’t make it back outside until half an hour later. There’s a little girl who can’t decide if she wants her face painted or not, because she’s a bit scared. Jake calls Waqar over to help, then turns to the little girl and speaks softly.

“Okay, how about we make a deal. If Waqar gets his face painted, will you get yours done after?” Waqar isn’t entirely sure that’s fair, but the girl perks up considerably at the idea and he doesn’t have the heart to say no. The girl nods enthusiastically and shakes Jake’s hand when he offers it to seal the deal. She skips off to play on the bouncy castle until it’s her turn, and Waqar reluctantly sits down in the chair.

“So, what are you going to do to me?” Waqar asks, and Jake laughs.

“I thought maybe a tiger?” That’s not too bad. He could cope with being a tiger for an hour or two, he supposes, as long as he keeps out of the way of people with cameras. The last thing he needs is for someone to tag him in a photo on Facebook and everyone from school sees him like that. He nods for Jake to begin. Tigger was always his favourite in  _ Winnie the Pooh _ anyway.

In the time it takes for Jake to do the base layer of orange, two aunties have been over to flirt with him. Waqar is embarrassed on a number of levels, not least because he’s getting a vibe from Jake that he wouldn’t be interested even if they were his age. 

He doesn’t really understand why Cory is the most popular one in that group because, aside from a superficial charm that he switches on whenever he wants something, he doesn’t exactly stand out as anything particularly special. Jake, on the other hand, is charming, funny and seriously cute, even when beset by terrifying aunties who can’t tell when they’re flirting with a gay guy.

“Sorry about them. I know what it’s like. When women can’t tell, I mean.” He wonders for a moment if perhaps he’s said too much - if it’s supposed to be top secret, and even his addressing it will cause great offence, or if he’s read Jake all wrong and has just outed himself to one of the most popular lads in school. He holds his breath for what feels like an age, until Jake gives him a knowing smile. 

“It’s alright. You get used to it, and trust me when I say a few excitable mums at a kids’ party is far better than drunk ladies at a corporate function!” He laughs, then lowers his voice to almost a whisper. “Anyway, it’s not all bad. Sometimes the birthday girl has a cute older cousin.”

Jake winks at him and Waqar thinks he might die right there and then. Much to his embarrassment, he  _ giggles. _ Still, it makes Jake smile, and that can’t be a bad thing. 

They talk until Waqar’s face is finished, during which time he finds out that Jake plans to do this professionally after sixth form. When he sees his finished face in the mirror, he’s amazed and quite certain Jake will be very rich indeed. The little girl is impressed as well, and sits down without even being prompted. Waqar leaves them to it.

When the party starts winding down, Waqar offers to help Jake pack up. Jake wants to clean up his brushes and wash his hands before he goes, but the kitchen is still in chaos, so Waqar helps him carry his things through to the bathroom down the hall. 

After several interruptions from over-sugared children asking silly questions, they decide to lock the door. Waqar can’t say he minds being locked in an enclosed space with Jake Earnshaw. He reckons he’ll get a lot of mileage out of telling the story to the girls in his year to make them jealous - they all love the year twelve boys, especially the ones from the rugby team. 

He risks a glance in the mirror at Jake, and then, when he doesn’t get caught, another, and another. His luck doesn’t hold, though, because on the fourth attempt their eyes meet in the reflection. He’s about to apologise when Jake turns to face him, taking Waqar’s hand and turning him round too. They’re almost uncomfortably close, except Waqar isn’t uncomfortable at all and, if anything, he’d like to be even closer. As if Jake is reading his mind, he slips his hands around Waqar’s waist and leans in to kiss him.

If you’d asked him before, Waqar would have said that weak-at-the-knees kisses only happened in films. Now, as he slides his hands into Jake’s hair, he’s absolutely certain that they’re real. He’s only glad Jake is holding on tightly enough that he won’t collapse in a heap on the floor.

When they pull apart, Waqar can’t help smiling - not least because Jake has face paint on his nose, among other places.

“I better get back out there before I have to answer too many questions,” he tells Jake, who bites his lip shyly.

“Can I have your number?” Of course he gets Waqar’s number, and another kiss to go with it, before they go their separate ways, and Waqar goes through to the kitchen to help with tidying once again.

He’s only just arrived back home when his phone vibrates in his pocket, and when he pulls it out he sees he has a message from Jake. The caption reads: 

_ I can’t believe you let me drive home like this.  _

Attached is a photo of an unimpressed (but still adorable) Jake, smears of orange and black face paint still very visible across his nose, cheeks and lips. Waqar can’t help but laugh, and then another text comes through.

_ I stopped at Tesco on the way. I hate you. _

He laughs even harder at that, and sends back a picture of his still-painted face with the caption:  _ I think you look purrfect. _


End file.
